


they'll hang us in the louvre

by jeannedarc



Category: VIXX
Genre: M/M, fluffy garbage, soft bratting ensues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 15:29:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11512239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeannedarc/pseuds/jeannedarc
Summary: “You know you don’t have to put clothes back on,” he points out, undoing his jeans and wiggling until they pool at his feet.“You know the rules,” is all Taekwoon says, crawling under the comforter and making room for Sanghyuk to climb in with him.(or: sanghyuk has an older boyfriend who doesn't want to do jail time just to sleep with him)





	they'll hang us in the louvre

**Author's Note:**

> lord knows!!! i can't write porn without giving it 3k of other shit. update: got that second half fixed, sorry for embarrassing myself!! a million thanks to [riley](http://archiveofourown.org/users/toastyhyun) as always for giving me awesome ideas for things and being the best first-half beta a slacker could ask for. (yum yum.)

“Why don’t I know any of your friends?”

Sanghyuk is half-slumped over Taekwoon’s kitchen table, looking defeated, fingertips drumming against the thin lines of text in his workbook. Taekwoon, for his part in this little game they play every night, is goofing around on his phone, checking his grade point average repeatedly as if it’s going to change after every five minutes. Next to him sits a lukewarm cup of coffee, a stark contrast to Sanghyuk’s sweating soda. 

“You just don’t.” Taekwoon’s playing at a change, though he doesn’t do much to hint at it, staring into his phone instead of at his boyfriend. “You don’t want to.”

“If they’re your friends I do.” There’s that whine in Sanghyuk’s voice that makes Taekwoon absolutely crazy. “I want to know everything about you.” Taekwoon doesn’t have to look up to know that Sanghyuk’s got that confident grin on his face, the one that looks so hilariously out-of-place on someone as young as he.

“Maybe,” Taekwoon agrees slowly, “but really, you don’t want to know what they’d say.”

“What would they say?” His energy suddenly returned, Sanghyuk pushes himself up on his elbows, smile turning a little more serious, more curious. “I wanna know. You don’t tell me anything about your life, even though you know all about mine.”

Heaving probably the heaviest sigh of all time, Taekwoon gets up from his side of the table, ruffles Sanghyuk’s hair with careful and decided affection. “Let’s go to bed.”

Sanghyuk, as always, wilts a little at his boyfriend’s rejection, but follows along nonetheless, flipping closed his text and tucking it into his bag, makes his way to the bedroom as he shrugs out of his shirt clumsily.

Taekwoon is already mostly undressed, changing into his pajamas, which, again, is a point of irritation to Sanghyuk. “You know you don’t have to put clothes back on,” he points out, undoing his jeans and wiggling until they pool at his feet.

“You know the rules,” is all Taekwoon says, crawling under the comforter and making room for Sanghyuk to climb in with him.

Today just isn’t his day, Sanghyuk muses unamusedly, getting into bed anyway and snuggling up to Taekwoon with as much affection as he can give, arms slung around his waist and cheek pillowed on his chest. “You know it’s my birthday, soon,” he starts, a tiny spark of hope creeping into his voice. “School’s almost over. Then we can spend time together more, ‘cause I’ll be free and you’ll be free. And right after that I’m turning eighteen.”

Softly, sleepily, Taekwoon hums his agreement, pinching at Sanghyuk’s earlobe with a slow grin creeping across his face. “I already know,” he says in that husky voice that means he’s about to fall asleep.

Sanghyuk huffs indignantly, running his warm fingertips along the cool skin of Taekwoon’s hip peeking out from beneath his pajama shirt. “Hope you marked your calendar.” Then he closes his eyes and makes himself go to sleep.

\---

“So, okay, you’ve been dating for how long?”

This conversation has taken at least half an hour where it should’ve taken maybe five minutes, and Sanghyuk is quickly losing his patience, keeping it in place only with great effort, laying back in his best friend’s bed and counting the dots in the ceiling’s texture. He fists and unfists his fingers in the blanket a few times, egging away the anxiety that comes with not getting the attention he needs in this, his time of need. “We’ve been together...I think a few months? Four months?” He screws up his mouth, counting backward under his breath. “Yeah. Four months.”

“And you haven’t met his friends.” Hongbin is, of course, focused on his game, speaking slowly, face illuminated by his computer screen, a ghastly mix of blue and white and black that makes him look utterly ridiculous.

“That’s right.”

“And you haven’t had sex.” He makes a kill and whoops quietly in victory. 

Sanghyuk, in response, groans, rolling over into the pillow. “...That’s also right.”

The match finishes, and Sanghyuk is grateful for Hongbin spinning around to face him, a serious expression on his face which starkly contrasts the obnoxious victory jingle playing from his laptop’s tinny speakers over his shoulder. “So are you sure he’s even a real person?”

“You aren’t helping.” As if everything is suddenly bearing down on him, Sanghyuk flails, legs kicking out against the mattress. “Yes, he’s a real person.”

“Okay, if he’s a real person, is he scamming you? Has he asked for any weird personal information?” Hongbin’s face cracks into the biggest smirk, and Sanghyuk chucks a pillow in his direction, which he catches in both arms and just snuggles into. “No, um...shit, I don’t know. Why haven’t you two had sex?”

“Because I’m not old enough to consent to sex,” Sanghyuk answers, voice a perfect imitation of Taekwoon’s, not that Hongbin can appreciate his effort, having not met Taekwoon yet.   
“Really? That...sounds kind of fake, but alright.”

“I don’t want him to get sent to jail.” Sanghyuk rolls over slowly, staring at the ceiling, closing his eyes and trying his best to think. “And he’s right, I’m not old enough yet.”

“You’re old enough to illegally consent to watching porn on the internet,” Hongbin points out. “And if he’s not willing to do time for you, are you really even together? Like, Romeo and Juliet were twelve or something, and they died so they could have sex. I think?” His whole face scrunches up in thought. “I tried to read it in school but I got bored and gave up.”

“Are you saying me and Taekwoon are Romeo and Juliet?” Sanghyuk contemplates this, not because he’s into the whole dying to have sex thing (if that’s even how the story goes; he’s given up on Romeo and Juliet twice this month, after all), but because it sounds kind of romantic. “Because I don’t want anyone to die. Even if I might die. From not having sex. With my super hot boyfriend.” Each sentence is marked with a little flap of his hand against the bed.

Hongbin laughs quietly, shaking his head. “You’re definitely not Juliet material, dude.”

“I could be Juliet!”

“Nah, you’re not smart enough for that.”

Sanghyuk grabs a second pillow and fires it right at Hongbin’s face, bursting into giggles at his friend’s panicked spluttering.

\---

Friday nights are usually reserved for studying, but Taekwoon says he’s got plans on Saturday, so their standing date night has been rescheduled. They’re in Taekwoon’s apartment, curled up on the couch, Sanghyuk’s head resting on Taekwoon’s thigh as he stretches out, taking up pretty much the entirety of the sofa.

“You know,” Sanghyuk drawls, looking up at Taekwoon with a coy little grin, “blowjobs aren’t technically sex.”

Taekwoon stops running his fingers through Sanghyuk’s hair, actually fucking pauses the film they’re watching (some boring movie about lesbians? There’s good sex scenes but the whole thing is just kind of...sad and uninteresting), to fix Sanghyuk with a Very Serious Gaze. “Any sex is sex.”

Wiggling under the intensity of Taekwoon’s stare, Sanghyuk knows he has to do something to fight back, reaches up and pinches the bridge of Taekwoon’s nose with a high-pitched sound accompanying. “But I really want to suck you off?”

“Do you?” Taekwoon sounds amused, though his face doesn’t change any more than it usually does, and he turns the film back on. The French continues. Sanghyuk could fall asleep right now if he weren’t so preoccupied thinking of how nice it would be to just roll over, whip Taekwoon’s dick out and go to town on it.

The two girls in the film don’t end up very happy. So when they go to bed that night, Sanghyuk is half-hard to the point of serious discomfort, obsessing, wondering if he’s going to end up alone and unsatisfied, too.

As they’re falling asleep, snuggled up as always, Taekwoon clothed and Sanghyuk not, he murmurs into Taekwoon’s chest, “Are you trying to steal my identity or something?”

Taekwoon snorts, almost derisive? but in that cute way he does when he thinks something’s goofy. “Go to sleep.”

“My birthday is in three weeks.”

“I already know. Go to sleep and I’ll make breakfast in the morning.”

\---

Saturday nights are usually so fun, but Sanghyuk’s been left alone, Taekwoon going out with his two best friends (supposedly, although he never seems super excited to hang out with them or anything) and Hongbin going out on a date. He hasn’t been this frustrated in so long that he doesn’t really remember the last time. He dicks around on his phone awhile, playing some game that someone had recommended him, texting Taekwoon a few times (careful not to sound bitter at his abandonment, of course, always careful not to play the cute young dude who happens to be a huge brat card too hard) to make sure he’s okay.

He ends up getting a photo in return. A surprise! He loves surprises.

Some dude (hot dude? What the hell? Who told Taekwoon he could have hot friends? Although it stands to reason that with him being as gorgeous as he is that his friends are also equally as hot) is snuggled up to Taekwoon with an arm around his neck. Taekwoon is clearly holding the camera, looking pointedly unamused, even going so far as to give Cuddle Guy a sideways look, the kind Sanghyuk’s only seen when he’s said something dumb that he shouldn’t have. There’s another dude (also hot! Sanghyuk is convinced he might die knowing his boyfriend’s friends are so attractive) to Taekwoon’s other side, winking like a cheesy fuck. They’re all smushed really close together and Sanghyuk just...wishes he were there. Not because he’s alone, or because he feels like no one in this moment cares enough about him, but really just…something in his heart tells him he wants to meet these guys. They’re important to Taekwoon. They should be important to him, too.

He’s halfway through imagining Taekwoon drinking with these two humans, himself a welcome addition later on, when an idea presents itself to him. An evil thought, one he’s probably not going to act on, but God is temptation strong.

He types it out a dozen times in the box, watching the cursor blink back at him as if taunting him. “Thinking of you.” “When are you coming home? I need you.” “I want you so badly.” “You look so fucking gorgeous right now I can’t stand it.” “I wish you understood what you do to me.” “Hey, you’re responsible for a little situation in my pants right now…”

Three weeks is a fucking lifetime. He doesn’t send anything except ‘goodnight’, when he finally decides he can’t take anymore. That doesn’t mean he turns off his phone. Instead he crops Taekwoon’s friends out of the photo so he can jerk off guilt-free to his boyfriend’s picture, all the while thinking about Taekwoon’s lovely, elegant hand wrapped around his cock.

\---

There’s this group of dudes at his high school who’ve all flocked together for reasons Sanghyuk can’t really understand. He doesn’t talk to them a lot, not about important things, but everyone’s always really supportive of each other, which is...nice. He guesses. He’s not great at being supportive to people he doesn’t really, really, _really_ like. 

It’s only when they’re near to graduation, a few days from the ceremony in fact, that he truly understands why his friend group is what it is. 

They’ve snuck onto the roof of their school to have lunch, their uniforms quickly ruffling up in the humidity and their hair puffing in the wind. A couple are smoking illegal cigarettes; Sanghyuk tries one and finds he likes it, save for the stink that comes immediately after finishing. They’re all just kind of there, floating around each other, casually conversing.

And then it sort of...happens.

“So my boyfriend asked me to marry him,” says one of them, which immediately breaks out into a serious discussion of the merits of civil unions versus now-legal marriages. Sanghyuk swallows thickly at facing the idea that holy shit, if they stay together, he and Taekwoon could get married. He feels every bit the giddy schoolgirl and is more than ready to doodle his and Taekwoon’s names in his notebook, trying out every configuration until finding one that works.

Someone asks, “Sanghyuk, are you seeing someone right now?”

A little grin curls the corners of Sanghyuk’s mouth. “Yeah. He’s in college.” He stands a little straighter at the admission, shoulders expanding a bit to accommodate the pride suddenly welling up in his chest. He thinks of Taekwoon’s sleepy smile, and his heart pings happily back at him, and everything is good.

Everyone makes scandalised noises, but congratulates him nonetheless. How the fuck he ended up with one of those Quintessential Queer Friend Groups without noticing, he’ll never know. But when each of his friends clap him on the shoulder, the back, ruffle his hair, he feels welcome in ways he doesn’t fully comprehend.

\---

Taekwoon doesn’t attend Sanghyuk’s graduation, being busy with...something, Sanghyuk isn’t really sure, but it’s fine -- it’s more of a family affair, and Sanghyuk’s only out to his sister (and even that’s tenuous at best) and his school friends, so that...isn’t really something he wants to explain. The actual ceremony goes by quickly enough that he doesn’t feel too weighted down by the hours spent there, and then he’s the apple of his parents’ eye for the rest of the day. What a concept.

A fleeting thought occurs to him, to tell them, but God, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be ready for that.

He manages to sneak away from his own celebration to text Taekwoon a little, and he’s all smiles when his boyfriend tells him congratulations, invites him over to spend the day together.

Just a little while longer, he thinks to himself. His birthday is in three days. He’s about to be an adult, in every sense of the word.

It’s hard to do, but he pretends the inside of his copy of the graduation program isn’t scribbled with different configurations of his and Taekwoon’s name together, that he isn’t, in his slower moments, thinking about the whole marriage business. He’s finished school and got his whole life ahead of him now, after all.

\---

They actually end up spending a lot of days spending time at the park, because Taekwoon’s thing with petting dogs is at a level that Sanghyuk did not previously know. It’s cute, seeing his boyfriend’s little face light up every time a dog so much as glances in their direction. The summer is unbearably hot, they’re dressed in shorts and t-shirts that stick to their skin as they do to one another, but Sanghyuk would way rather be stealing kisses in air-conditioned movie theatres or sharing cold drinks in cafés, anything to beat the heat.

He wouldn’t trade Taekwoon’s brilliant smile for anything, though.

It’s on one of these such days that Taekwoon sort of casually asks him, in that way he does without even asking. It’s like he doesn’t know questions actually exist, something that both baffles and greatly tickles Sanghyuk. 

“My friends were wondering about you.”

They’re all sprawled on the grass, side-by-side, pinkies occasionally brushing, but Sanghyuk bolts upright. “They are?”

“Yeah,” and Taekwoon huffs a little laugh, “they wanna know about the fetus who keeps stealing me from them.”

Sanghyuk rolls his eyes, already used to accusations that haven’t even been flung his way yet. “Are you saying I finally get to meet them?”

The clouds shift, exposing Taekwoon’s face to a bright shaft of sunlight. “If you want,” he says easily, closing his eyes and clenching and unclenching his fingers around a patch of grass. 

\---

They all get together just a couple days before his birthday, actually, Sanghyuk having invited Hongbin along (and Hongbin having invited his sorta-boyfriend Wonshik along so as to not be a spare wheel) and all of them meeting at a bar, all soft music and clinking glasses and twinkling neon lights. Sanghyuk isn’t old enough to drink, not that he has a lot of interest in doing so, and he gets teased over it right out of the gate.

Hakyeon (Hot Guy #1, who has a serious snuggling problem, judging by the way he’s always holding someone’s hand or touching their shoulder; he does it to Sanghyuk a few times and it’s not? uncomfortable? but it is kind of weird and Sanghyuk finds he can’t meet Hakyeon’s eyes more than once) is more than accommodating, a natural host of sorts, orders Sanghyuk Cokes all night. He provides a good counterbalance to Jaehwan (Hot Guy #2, who winks like his fucking eye is broken but he’s cute enough that he probably thinks he can get away with it), who is jovial but cracking jokes every chance he gets. Sanghyuk finds out they’re dating, Hakyeon and Jaehwan, which is cool -- he’s only just adjusted to the concept of his own Quintessential Queer Friend Group, and now has a second, he guesses.

They tease Taekwoon good-naturedly about his baby boyfriend, to which Taekwoon blushes, but he doesn’t shy away, doesn’t deny anything, just looks at Sanghyuk with a little twinkle in his eye every time they say anything about it.

Hongbin gives Taekwoon equal amounts of shit, explaining more than once that he had considered that Taekwoon might be some kind of career criminal attempting to get Sanghyuk’s nonexistent fortunes. Every time he cracks a joke, Wonshik laughs like he’s never heard a joke before in his life, and Hongbin’s eyes light up in that way that they do when he likes the attention he’s getting, a rare feat all things considered.

The older half of this odd assortment is a few drinks down, loose, their voices just slightly tinged with alcohol and giddiness, when Jaehwan finally asks the question. “How did you meet our Taekwoonie, anyway?” Hakyeon nods along with every word his boyfriend says, eyes going wide with excitement.

Sanghyuk exchanges a glance with Taekwoon, who’s a little flushed and a lot embarrassed, but nods that he should go ahead. “Um...I snuck into the college library to get a paper finished,” Sanghyuk mumbles, only gaining a tiny modicum of confidence when Taekwoon rests a warm palm on his knee under the table. “The one at my school was so crowded that I wasn’t getting anything done, and I needed to find some resources that they weren’t using, and...I dunno. Taekwoon was there, and we were basically the only people in that section, and we just sort of ended up talking.”

There’s more, of course, because Sanghyuk doesn’t meet anyone the first time without making a complete ass of himself. Hakyeon and Jaehwan don’t look completely satisfied by the answer they’ve been given. It’s intimidating. When they team up they’re like a pair of harpies ready to shred Sanghyuk to bits. (Or, more likely, that’s his own anxiety talking.) “You got him to speak?” Hakyeon asks, incredulous if greatly amused. “Maybe we haven’t given you enough credit, then.”

Hongbin, though, has other plans, judging by the look on his face. Fuck. This was a bad idea, bringing him along. “Didn’t you tell me,” he starts in his most casual voice, “that you dropped a book on his face or something?”

For just a second, Sanghyuk is torn between smacking his best friend on the arm and letting the earth open up beneath him and swallow him whole.

But Hakyeon and Jaehwan think this is hilarious. “Is that why he was walking around with that big bruise on his nose?” Jaehwan asks between fits of laughter, hands leaving Hakyeon’s just to hold his stomach. “He said he fell down some stairs.”

Everything turns easy in a moment. Sanghyuk catches Taekwoon’s eye for just a second, and the approval he finds there is enough to propel him through any mortification. He winds his fingers through the ones on his knee, squeezes, smiling so broad, so bright he’s afraid for a moment his face might crack in two.

\---

Exactly three days later, at 12:01am, Sanghyuk is sitting in Taekwoon’s living room, blindfolded, waiting. It’s not really the kinky situation he thought his birthday was going to be? Because the entire apartment smells like cinnamon and vanilla, and he is still wearing most of his clothes, and as far as he knows so is Taekwoon. But...it is nice. They’ve spent the whole day petting dogs and holding hands in public and eating ice cream until Sanghyuk was sure his belly would burst from all the sugar and even Taekwoon, usually a bit on the solemn side, was giggly on a sugar high. 

They’ve sobered up, obviously, but Sanghyuk can’t help that nervous little bounce in his knee. What if it’s not everything he’s ever talked about? Thought about? Dreamt of? (Jerked off to??) He’s almost tempted to call the whole thing off when Taekwoon’s shuffling footsteps interrupt his thoughts.

“You can take the blindfold off,” Taekwoon says, more a mumble, and Sanghyuk doesn’t need to be able to see to know he’s smiling. He slips the cover off his eyes and Taekwoon is standing there in front of him, a little cake all lit up with candles cradled carefully between his hands. He crouches a little, offering the flames to Sanghyuk. “Make a wish.”

Sanghyuk, in all his anxiety, wishes that tonight doesn’t end, and blows out the candles. Then, clearly no more mature even if he is a whole year older, he swipes a finger in the beautifully-constructed icing on his cake and dabs it on the end of Taekwoon’s nose.

With a sigh that sounds much older than he actually is, Taekwoon sets the cake down on the coffee table and collapses beside Sanghyuk, completely ignoring the coagulated sugar on his face in favour of cupping Sanghyuk’s cheeks in his palms and pulling him in for a sweet, soft, Sunday morning of a kiss, thumbing over his cheekbones and nipping at his bottom lip.

Sanghyuk responds in turn, of course, any nerves he might have had before melting away at the simple acts of kisses, of touches, of feeling closeness. After all the buildup he’s made himself, all the long nights of wishing, he’s almost afraid, but Taekwoon is so soft, so perfect, so patient that the concept of ‘good enough’ ceases to matter.

They break for air briefly, and Sanghyuk dusts his lips to Taekwoon’s nose, sucking the icing from his skin in a calculated, but unsexy move. Taekwoon laughs so quietly it barely makes a sound, his shoulders shaking a little as he pulls Sanghyuk into his lap easily. “You’re so weird.”

“I’m yours,” Sanghyuk answers, straddling Taekwoon’s hips easily and slinging his arms around his neck.

A little shiver runs through Taekwoon’s frame, and Sanghyuk smiles when he leans down to catch his boyfriend’s mouth in another kiss, tangling fingers in his hair and drawing himself that fraction closer. Their hips meet, slotting together, perfectly imperfect, and there’s a little spark of that need that flares up in Sanghyuk’s stomach that urges him to take all that he can get.

Taekwoon’s hands slide from Sanghyuk’s face, to the sides of his neck, to the soft spot between his shoulderblades, fingers digging into the flesh there, pulling Sanghyuk in without moving him an inch. They sigh in turn into each other’s mouths, tongues flirting against one another before giving into temptation and meeting, entwining, their kiss a sloppy mess of a want that Sanghyuk didn’t even know Taekwoon had, before. Those same hands find the small of his back, hold him still, rock his hips up toward Sanghyuk’s, showing him how much he’s wanted. 

A cherry-red flush burns at Sanghyuk’s cheeks at the sensation, at feeling Taekwoon’s cock through his jeans, all for him. It doesn’t matter, now, if this is perfect, because this is theirs, and nothing can replace that.

Sanghyuk drags his nails down the nape of Taekwoon’s neck, inside the collar of his shirt, and he, frustrated, tugs at the material, wanting more than anything the simple sensation of skin to skin contact. Taekwoon complies with that too, and Sanghyuk is a little thrown off by how pliant he is, how willingly he cooperates, wishing he had known that, as much as he had wanted, Taekwoon had as well. It’s even more apparent in the way he tugs at Sanghyuk’s clothes, trying to peel them from him; Sanghyuk shrugs out of his shirt as Taekwoon had, quickly casting it aside and getting right back to kissing him, reveling in the feel of his heartbeat quickening in time with Taekwoon’s.

Their hands wander, Sanghyuk’s with great purpose but Taekwoon’s kind of idle, exploring, as if they’ve got all the time in the world. The gentleness of it all has Sanghyuk absolutely burning up, embarrassed by the understanding that he is being revered, loved, cared for, kept safe in this, a vulnerable moment, the fragility of which he can’t begin to comprehend. And shit, he might be overwhelmed by everything, but he’s still within himself, enjoying every touch, absorbing and memorising it. 

They rock together lazily, finding and learning one another, until Sanghyuk finally breaks, grinding down shamelessly in Taekwoon’s lap and whispering his name, the sound a hiss made of the basest need that passes harshly through his clenched teeth. Taekwoon holds him close, nails dragging down his spine, stopping just above the curve of his ass, then gripping him tight with hands in his back pockets. The tight denim is contributing to Sanghyuk’s discomfort in a way that isn’t unwelcome, but that is bothersome, and he whines.

“Are you my present?” he asks, breathless and giggling in advance of his own joke, hiding his face in the crook of Taekwoon’s neck, licking a quick stripe over his pulse. “‘Cause I wanna unwrap you.”

Taekwoon puffs out a little laugh, tipping his head to the side, giving Sanghyuk more skin with which to work. “Happy birthday, baby boy,” he says, and it’s the most genuine thing he’s ever fucking said, and it makes Sanghyuk absolutely insane with how much he wants, how long he’s been waiting for this exact thing.

He rolls out of Taekwoon’s lap, despite any and all indications that he shouldn’t, that he doesn’t want to. It takes a couple extra seconds to fight his way out of the rest of his clothes because his fingers are trembling, he’s convinced every molecule in his body is vibrating, that he can’t possibly be still from this moment on. Taekwoon does the same, and Sanghyuk’s efforts are slowed even further by the slide of his own gaze along the lines of Taekwoon’s body as he slips out of his own jeans. The air is heavy between them as they watch one another get naked, but then it’s there, everything out in the open.

They meet up again, a messy tangle of limbs, Taekwoon’s leg drawn up onto the couch to half-cage Sanghyuk in, keep him in check even as he’s soaking in the feel of how soft, how warm Taekwoon is, pinned beneath his weight and open to each and every burning kiss he lays upon his collar. Now it’s his turn to take his time, and he does, leaving tiny marks all along his chest, the upper expanse of his stomach where his ribcage ends. It takes a little effort, cools the hot coals burning in his own gut, but God, every little whine he earns in return is worth it.

It must bring Taekwoon to a breaking point because he goes stock-still beneath Sanghyuk, hands at his hips, fingers pressing tiny bruises into him in order to get him to stop as well. He gives Sanghyuk a long look, intense gaze boring into Sanghyuk’s face and seeming to melt him at his very core. “I love you,” he mouths, and Sanghyuk’s heart breaks a little, flashing out of the moment, back to his graduation program, to everything he’s thought about over the course of the past few weeks, beyond sex, beyond his boyfriend, and into forever. 

He fits his arms around Taekwoon’s neck, and Taekwoon lifts him easily (leaving Sanghyuk resentful; he knows he’s not as big as he could be, but fuck, he doesn’t like being babied like this), carries him to bed as he’s done a dozen times before, lips at the column of his throat as he crosses the short distance between living room and bedroom. He sets him down gently and crawls atop him, holding him close, eyes never once leaving his even as he’s bent down and kissing over Sanghyuk’s chest, flirting his tongue over the stiff bud of one nipple, causing Sanghyuk to arch and wind his fingers into Taekwoon’s hair, hold him in place. More, he begs in a high-pitched, wordless keen. “Please, Taekwoonie,” he mumbles, hooking a leg around Taekwoon’s back. “Please.”

Taekwoon, apparently, isn’t too proud to deny him, shifts so that he’s planted firmly between Sanghyuk’s parted thighs, his heel pressed between his shoulderblades. His lips quickly find the line of Sanghyuk’s left hip and he shudders at the contact, the warmth of Taekwoon’s mouth, his tongue tracing the muscle straining against his skin. He does this all the way down, stopping just short of Sanghyuk’s base, then back up the other side, making contented little sounds as he goes. Then without any sort of warning save a flicker of his dark, hooded eyes, he takes Sanghyuk’s cock in one hand, licks along the underside in slow, soft laps. 

Sanghyuk swears so loudly it echoes in his own mind, fingers tightening in Taekwoon’s hair, nails pressing into his scalp. “ _Please,_ ” he begs once more, tugging as gently as he can through his own haze of desperation. Again, Taekwoon does what’s asked of him, takes the head of Sanghyuk’s cock between his gorgeous lips, and the sight is almost enough to send Sanghyuk careening over the edge. He keeps himself in check, going limp beneath Taekwoon’s weight, willing the tension from his each and every fiber of being, save the tight fist in Taekwoon’s hair.

Taekwoon takes him in with a swift motion, cheeks hollowing, lips stretching, a little dribble of saliva slipping down his chin. He’s a mess, all red-cheeked, fringe askew, eyes slipping closed as he starts to move, sucking Sanghyuk off with a practised ease. Sanghyuk’s breath catches in his chest, and he swears he sees explosions of vivid colour behind his open eyes. His free hand finds the blanket beneath him, squeezing so hard his knuckles turn white, and he is using what little self-restraint he has left over to keep from fucking into Taekwoon’s mouth.

“T-Taekwoon,” he whispers, strained, “I need more…” He squirms a little, seeing as it’s already hard to keep himself under control, but this time Taekwoon doesn’t stop, only inches his lips further along Sanghyuk’s cock, sucking like his life depends on it.

It goes on like this for several minutes, until Sanghyuk’s abdomen tenses up with heat, until his legs seize up a little and he knows he’s not going to last much longer. “I’m gonna…” It’s just a breath, barely even words, he can’t seem to get his mouth to move enough to form them, but Taekwoon just pulls off him briefly, a loud pop filling the room, a stark interruption in comparison to the wet sounds of his mouth.

“Come, then,” he urges, voice raw around the edges, and resumes as if having said nothing. A few more passes of his mouth, his tongue, and Sanghyuk releases into the wet heat of Taekwoon’s mouth, fingers so taut in his hair that Taekwoon shoots him an amused little glare. Sanghyuk is only just present enough to take notice, waves of orgasm rocking through him, threatening to take him over completely. 

There’s a moment in which Taekwoon rests his cheek on Sanghyuk’s sweat-slick hip, planting a gentle little kiss there, and Sanghyuk is trying so hard to catch his breath, unable to focus past the bliss wreathing his consciousness, and it’s perfect, even if nothing else is. But then Taekwoon is crawling up Sanghyuk’s body. “Baby boy,” he practically coos, “do you want me to fuck you?”

And God, he’s worn out already just from the intensity of coming once, but he can’t bring himself to say no, can’t imagine not wanting to feel Taekwoon buried inside him. So he croaks out, still heavy with the weight of coming back to Earth, limbs akimbo and covered in perspiration. “Yes. Please.”

Taekwoon smirks in that wicked way that’s usually saved for when he gets a joke Sanghyuk doesn’t. “It’s your birthday.” He’s wrapped around Sanghyuk, arm slung over his chest, leg over his thigh, and Sanghyuk can feel how hard Taekwoon is, the waves of desire rolling off him as he ruts just so against the meat of Sanghyuk’s aching thigh muscles. And he might be tired from all the waiting he’s been doing, but he’s wanted this for so long that to say no could break him. He pulls Taekwoon to him, dragging him into a messy kiss, tasting himself on Taekwoon’s tongue. “Yes,” he whispers again into Taekwoon’s mouth, firmer this time, all the languidity leaking from his limbs.

It occurs to him, as Taekwon is rummaging through the bedside table for lube and a condom, that he’s been a bit awful, that he doesn’t deserve everything he’s been given by this wonderful, incredible man. But then a cold finger is pressed into the cleft of his ass and all coherent thought disappears, wiped out completely by the feel of blunt touch pushing into him, inch by agonising inch, stretching him with the wicked crook of a finger. 

“Taekwoon!” he cries out as he’s pressed into further and further until Taekwoon finds that spot inside him, gives it a soft couple strokes for posterity. Then another finger fits inside him alongside the first, scissoring gently just to add to the burn, turning discomfort into relative comfort. Sanghyuk can’t take his eyes off the spot where Taekwoon’s hand disappears between his thighs, his own palm skimming along the plane of Taekwoon’s back and nails biting crescents into his skin. 

Then he’s left empty, bereft, and there’s a brief moment where he almost feels isolated, the time in which Taekwoon carefully rolls on a condom, lubing up carefully. Sanghyuk’s eyes find the form of Taekwoon’s hand wrapped around his own cock and sighs, exhaling all the stress left in him, careful that he doesn’t make this more difficult for either of them. Taekwoon spreads Sanghyuk’s thighs wide to seat himself between them, lifting him up at the backs of his thighs, wrapping Sanghyuk’s legs around his waist. The head of his cock presses against Sanghyuk’s stretched entrance, and Taekwoon looks to Sanghyuk for his consent.

“Please fuck me,” Sanghyuk gasps, trying his utmost not to rock down and force Taekwoon’s hand, relishing in the anticipation.

So Taekwoon does, pushing into him in a slow roll of his hips. Sanghyuk’s blood boils at being filled up, and it’s a little uncomfortable at first (as it usually is, at least in his experience) but he adjusts quickly, tightening the hold of his quaking thighs around Taekwoon’s middle and silently urging for more, just to have it given to him.

He burns up from the inside out at every thrust, hollowed out by every drag of Taekwoon’s cock away from him, and it’s that push and pull that has his cock twitching hard between his legs despite the little time between his last orgasm and the one building quickly within him. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth so hard that a tang of copper fills his mouth. He gasps out as he feels Taekwoon’s hips snap against him, a deep contrast to the soft touch of a finger threading through his fringe, pushing it out of his eyes.

Every movement either of them makes alerts Sanghyuk to the shaking that takes over Taekwoon’s frame. He must be close, too, signified by that and the unsteady way he’s fucking deep into Sanghyuk, the head of his cock brushing that spot inside him and making stars flicker brightly before his eyes. With a renewed vigour, Sanghyuk takes Taekwoon by the shoulders, pulls himself up so their chests are pressed flush together, and rocks down against every haphazard thrust of Taekwoon’s cock, half-riding him and squeezing his sides with his thighs. 

“Come for me, Taekwoonie,” he gasps out, biting into Taekwoon’s neck as if to spur him on, and a few thrusts later he does, tensing up, gasping out Sanghyuk’s name, the word coupled with a loud moan. He doesn’t stop when he finishes, though, moving slower now but fucking into Sanghyuk all the same, a hand curling around his cock to bring him to his second orgasm spilling between their stomachs and over Taekwoon’s lovely, elegant fingers.

They stay like this, intertwined, holding each other as they struggle for breath, the very last shockwaves rocking through Sanghyuk. He shivers, cold, sated and clinging to life by clinging to Taekwoon’s equally tremulant frame. “I love you, too,” Sanghyuk whispers between tiny gasps, shifting and climbing out of Taekwoon’s lap, pulling him down so they lay side-by-side, snuggled into one another.

They stay like this a few minutes, basking in one another, in the sentiment, then Taekwoon pulls off the condom, ties it off, climbs out of bed and goes to the bathroom. He returns just moments later with a damp rag, warm when he slowly wipes the drying remnants of cum off Sanghyuk’s stomach, then his own. He tosses the washcloth aside, and Sanghyuk smiles weakly, so enthralled is he by Taekwoon’s sudden abandonment of his usual self. He can get used to post-sex Taekwoon.

Then they’re all wrapped up again, Taekwoon circling his arms around Sanghyuk and pulling him close, nose nestled in his hair, a smattering of kisses laid to his crown while Sanghyuk’s face crinkles up under all the affection.

“Was it worth it?” Sanghyuk asks, a little sleepy, the sensation of being so satisfied overwhelming him to the point of letting sleep actually take him.

“Mm?” Taekwoon opens one eye, lifts the corresponding brow, one of those little smirks flirting at the corners of his mouth. “You’ve been worth it the whole time, you brat.”

Sanghyuk laughs, the sound heavy, filling the room even as he’s drifting off. “I hope so, ‘cause I’m not going anywhere.”

\---

“So you finally had sex.” The conversation is taking half an hour where it should’ve taken five minutes, but now that everything has caught up with his own personal timeframe, Sanghyuk finds he isn’t as impatient with things like this anymore. Hongbin isn’t doing well this round, anyway, and Sanghyuk finds a perverse satisfaction in it.

“We did.”

A long pause, Hongbin getting killed before he presses on with his minor interrogation. “And?”

“And…” Sanghyuk closes his hand around the edge of the comforter, propping himself up a little higher on his own palm. “And I think I could marry him.”

“Marry him??” Hongbin actually fucking stops playing (a miracle) to spin around in his desk chair and fix Sanghyuk with a look of complete and total disbelief. “You’re eighteen, you can’t get married.”

“Romeo and Juliet were, like, twelve, remember?”

“I already said you’re not Juliet,” Hongbin grumbles, turning back to his failing game. Only a few moments later the match is over and he’s lost, but it’s fine, he’s fine, judging by the way his expression has shifted from confusion to disappointment. He groans quietly, standing up from his desk, stretching his arms over his head. “You’re not smart enough. Juliet didn’t even want to get married.”

“You finished it.”

“You didn’t.” Hongbin flashes a cocky grin, shaking his head and flopping down on the bed beside Sanghyuk. “Wonshik wanted to know if everyone wanted to get together again tonight.”

Already, Sanghyuk is whipping out his phone. “I’ll ask Taekwoon to invite the harpies.” But his message doesn’t say that. It rarely says what he intends it these days.

_Love you.  
Let’s have a thing tonight with the gang._


End file.
